Subconscious habits can be terrifying things.
Take now, for example.
Looking at Morgan and Artoria in front of him, Ian found he simply couldn't take his eyes off their chests.
Not entirely out of lust.
Rather—
He was just used to it.
His mother, Tiamat, never shied away from letting him see her magnificent chest.
Ian never saw this as a bad thing.
But in the human world, things were clearly not as gentle as Tiamat.
This kind of behavior seemed very hard for them to accept.
Sure enough—
The outside world was nothing like the Sea of Life.
As Tiamat's child, Ian had once again gained a kind of experience he could never get before.
Meanwhile, Morgan was feeling a little uneasy.
She prided herself on being perceptive.
So when she noticed Ian's gaze lingering between her and Artoria's chests, her annoying sense of competitiveness suddenly flared up.
In every way, she believed her chest should be more attractive than Artoria's.
That country girl couldn't possibly have the elegance of Camelot.
But reality slapped Morgan in the face.
No, it punched her first, then kicked her for good measure.
Yes.
Ian was looking at both of them.
But!
The time ratio was seven-to-three.
And the three was for her.
Did he not understand beauty?!
How could he ignore something big and perfect and focus on what's small and plain?
Were his eyes broken?!
"Sister?"
Sensing the dark aura from Morgan, Artoria, dressed as a knight princess, gently tapped her hand.
"Are you okay?"
"…"
"Nothing."
Morgan quickly reined in her emotions.
"Did you need something?"
"Umm—"
Artoria pulled out the scroll that King Uther had given her.
It was like a map.
"This shows where we're supposed to go, right?"
"Right."
Morgan nodded.
"Circle around Britain and return to Camelot in the end."
"You'll definitely learn a lot on the road."
"Mm!"
Artoria nodded earnestly.
"I'll make sure to remember everything we encounter on the way!"
"…"
The more diligent Artoria looked, the more Morgan's heart ached.
That journey was supposed to be hers. Now, it was witnessing Artoria's path to kingship.
How pitiful.
"This is for you."
Ian's voice interrupted Morgan's bitterness.
He handed a flower to Artoria.
"Huh?"
She took the flower, looking happy and curious.
"Ian, where did you get this—"
"From the roadside."
"I thought it looked nice, so I picked it for you."
"Really?"
Artoria sniffed the flower lightly, her cheeks turning pink.
"Didn't expect you to be romantic sometimes. I guess you're not just some dummy who only knows how to eat me in bed—"
She instantly realized her slip of the tongue.
She was so happy to receive the flower that she completely forgot Morgan was standing right there!
"Um, sis, what I meant was…"
"You two are really close, huh."
Morgan interrupted before she could explain.
Her tone was tinged with faint jealousy.
"When you see something beautiful, you want to give it to someone you care about."
"That's not a habit that forms in just a few days."
"I…"
Morgan stopped halfway through her sentence.
Because she noticed Ian was now looking directly at her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"For you."
Ian held out another flower toward her.
"…"
Morgan froze.
"I… get one too?"
"Mm."
"You… don't like it?"
"…"
"It's okay, I guess."
Morgan turned her head slightly but was quicker than Artoria in accepting the flower.
"But I suppose it's fine to accept it."
"So it's one for everyone, huh?"
Artoria looked at the flower in her own hand.
"I thought you were…"
"Were what?"
"Nothing!" Artoria blushed.
"Let's go already!"
Something subtle seemed to change in that moment.
Morgan realized it was the first time she'd ever received a flower. Even though it was just a wildflower from the roadside, it didn't feel cheap.
This guy might not fully understand beauty, but he wasn't completely clueless either.
Still, even if she was happy, Morgan hadn't forgotten the real reason she joined the trip.
If she could complicate the relationship between Artoria and Ian, then it would be easy to label her sister — the one who took her rightful place as king — as Tiamat's enemy.
The reason? "A wicked woman seducing your son."
Opportunities for that would surely come.
Morgan could tell. The way Ian looked at Artoria — and the way Artoria looked back — there was nothing innocent about it.
They just needed one final push.
Thinking this, Morgan looked at the flower in her hand with a touch of regret, then tucked it inside her clothes and didn't spare it another glance.
Admiration meant little; what mattered was the land of Britannia beneath her feet.
From that point on, the group fell into silence. Occasionally, Artoria and Ian exchanged a few words, but the conversations were brief.
By sundown, following the map on the parchment, they arrived at a village.
But…
Seeing the state of the village, Artoria gasped.
Though called a village, there wasn't a blade of grass in sight. No sign of food. Villagers were collapsed along the roadside, starved and waiting to die.
They didn't even have the strength to lift a hand — arms just dangled helplessly.
The air reeked of despair.
"How… how could it be like this…"
The smile vanished from Artoria's face instantly.
She hadn't imagined that the first stop on her journey would be this tragic.
All her petty worries from earlier — trying to figure out her relationship with Ian — were gone in an instant.
What remained was a pounding heart filled with anxiety for the suffering around her.
This wasn't some carefree sightseeing trip.
This was a harsh lesson — a reality check on the state of Britian.
"Ian! Over here, quick!"